Matt was able to catch the earlier 3:40 p.m. flight home from Cincinnati, a small but triumphant victory, and was able to be back home by 6:00 p.m. He picked up the meal box that had been delivered earlier in the day and started making dinner – a small act of redemption for the fight he had been in with Sabina the night prior. The fights were increasing in their frequency, and Matt in his clearer moments knew he was the source of them. The apologies didn't always follow as often. He had decided tonight to try to make this one right.
As he was prepping the meal, he heard the door open, and watched Sabina step into the house, still finishing a call with her mom that was a nearly everyday occurrence, dropped her purse and keys, and turned to open the refrigerator for a glass of water. Neither of them made eye contact.
“Okay mom…yep…I know. Okay, well, I just got home. I'll call you tomorrow…yep…love you, too.” Sabina hung up, leaned against the fridge and just gave Matt a slow, punishing, if forgiving, look.
“Hi,” Matt offered meekly.
“Hey. How was the trip?” Sabina returned, always ready to be the bigger person, but not retreating from her position against the refrigerator.
“It was fine – good actually. We won the contract. And I was happy to get the earlier flight back. Listen – about last night. I was a jerk. I'm sorry.”
Sabina gave him a long look. Her looks could be piercing – it was some part of the psychologist in her that if she chose to, she could yield with devastating effect. She, uniquely, could push past Matt's ego and confident-man exterior toward a deeper level of insight and loving critique. He knew, always, her intentions were pure. “It's fine, but you just have to know that this is a pattern with you. You come home, are unhappy, and then you spin it into some conflict with me. It's not fair. If you're unhappy, then do something about it, but don't take it out on me.”
“You're one hundred percent right. I know. And this morning in the shower I just thought to myself how lucky I am to have you and that you don't deserve my BS.”
She picked up the pile of mail and began to thumb through it. Had she moved on? Forgiven me? Was she bored by me? Matt wondered. His insecurity in these moments of apology was pronounced. He knew enough to know that he should do something special for Sabina this weekend. Having just joined a climbing gym on the west side of the city, he was excited to see in their email newsletter that they were doing a couples night Saturday night where they were going to have the gym lit up with tea lights, a bring-your-own-wine bar, and open up the gym for climbing. Rock climbing and hiking was something that they used to do regularly when they first started dating, but life got busy and they hadn't found the time lately. As part of his infamous string of New Year's resolutions, many of which inevitably involved physical fitness, Matt had recommitted himself to climbing at least a few times a week. He thought Saturday bringing Sabina could be a fun surprise – and he would probably earn more credit than he deserved given the gym was planning it already.
Matt loved that Sabina was an adventurer at heart as well. It was a big part of how they fell in love in the first place.
“I have a surprise for you. Saturday night we're going to the new climbing gym I joined for a special couple's night. The place will be all ‘romantic-ed' up with candlelight. We'll have some wine and cheese, maybe meet some people, and then climb together.” He waited to see if this would get the reaction he hoped for. It didn't.
“Okay. I thought we were supposed to go to that block party,” Sabina responded without making eye contact.
“Forget the block party. I want to take my amazing wife to go climbing like we used to.” He grabbed her into a tight hug and kissed her head. She relented as he felt her muscles relax and hug him back. They were back to normal.
“Ugh. You're just insufferable sometimes,” she said honestly as she playfully punched him, and squeezed him back. “How did you know I would want to go climbing?”
“I didn't. But I knew I owed you something and I miss climbing with you,” Matt offered. “You deserve better,” Matt continued. “I'm trying to get better. I don't know what the hell is going on with me. I think it's turning 40, or feeling stuck, or feeling like my ship has sailed. It's weird – I can't put my finger on it, but I need to figure it out for myself. You don't deserve to be made miserable with me.”
Sabina stepped back and now she commanded the conversation, holding him by the shoulders and looking him in the eyes. “Matt – that's ridiculous. Look at all you have done and all we have. You were one of the youngest partners at your firm. We have a beautiful home; we have a beautiful life. You have friends who love you. I love you.”
“I know. I know all of that is true. It's just…I don't know. I feel I'm not realizing my full potential – as if there is something more.”
“Like a baby!” Sabina exclaimed. They had talked about having a baby for years. Neither of them felt an urgency for it, though Sabina wanted one more than he. At 35, Sabina was beginning to talk more and more about wanting to start the process. As it was, she would be one of the last of her married friends to get pregnant.
“You and that baby,” Matt smiled. It wasn't that he didn't want a baby. It just never felt like the right time. He held onto an idea that there were things he wanted to do before they had a family. Maybe, he thought to himself, it's time to let go of any delusions of grandeur and realize this is your life. It doesn't get better or different, so let that dream go. And maybe it's time you step up and give Sabina the one thing she wants and deserves, which is this baby.
“I promise. I want you to be happy, and I do want that baby. Someday. I just don't know when but I know it will feel right at some point.” Matt was suddenly flustered, sensing that their date night could end up in an already regular argument about when to have kids. “Is this really the conversation we have to have tonight?” Matt asked, gently as if to want the conversation but just not now.
“It's been someday for some years,” Sabina returned, almost under her breath, careful to even have this conversation knowing the deeper implications and struggle that this had meant for her.
“I know. I know!” Matt offered, almost pleading, frustrated with himself that he hasn't felt ready even though he knows he should. “I do want kids. I've always wanted kids. I've always wanted you, and this house, and a job that I was good at. I've always wanted all of these things, and I have them, but somehow I still have these fleeting moments of feeling like life is just moving by and as I turn 40 it will only move faster. Is it a bad life? No. And honestly this has nothing to do with you, but it's something deeper, almost more existential. You're the psychologist; maybe you would know….”
Matt began to walk away from the conversation, but Sabina pulled him back in. She had heard this enough to know this wasn't a fleeting thought – he was struggling.
“Honey,” she offered. “I understand you're struggling. You know I've always told you that I would support you, but I don't know how much I can do for you with this – you've got to get clear on what's missing and how you get it. You keep talking about not wanting to be like your dad, and yet…” Sabina pulled back. Maybe this was too raw.
Matt paused, and then picked up the cue, “I know. My dad….” His dad had worked a factory job that he hated. He provided for the family but suffered from feeling, and knowing internally, that he had more talent than his career at one parts manufacturer would indicate. He never found the path to being fulfilled. He talked regularly about the things he would do after working the factory job, but he died early at 60, just three months prior to his planned retirement date and while Matt was in the Army. His death left Matt with a sense of deep sadness for a man he loved and who suffered for his family, but also a deep anger that he hadn't taken action to do something about the fact that he hated that factory job.
“I'm not saying you are your dad, but I am saying you need to take action. You haven't always seemed this depressed. What changed? When was the last time you felt like your life mattered?” Sabina asked. She had a way of posing deep and existential questions that rolled off casually as if totally normal and appropriate. She also sensed that this was a bigger conversation and grabbed an open bottle of red wine, poured them each a glass, and lit a candle, which was her subtext for I'm ready to talk.
Matt didn't have to think, “In the Army. Everyday.”
“But you hated the Army,” she countered.
“Well, kind of. Yes. It was a pain in my ass most days, but these soul-level questions never were there for me. You knew you mattered. Somehow in this professional life as a guy in finance it just feels like an exercise in accumulation: more title, more clients, more money – but to what end? At best, it's uninterrupted and you have money at the end of it. Or if you're even luckier, you retire early. That all, if I'm honest with myself, just sounds really depressing. But I know it shouldn't. And I know it doesn't to most people – particularly with people who don't know where their next meal is coming from. So yeah, it's privileged. This whole conversation. Which only makes me want to hate myself even more for feeling like this.”
“Okay…” Sabina cut him off. The psychologist in her hated how his go-to emotion was shame. “Don't ‘hate' yourself – that's not productive. These feelings are real. Are you saying you want to join the Army again? You know I would want to support…”
Matt burst out laughing and almost choked on a sip of wine. “Ha…oh hell no. Like, I'm glad I did it and wouldn't change that for the world – you know that. But it's not about going backwards; it's about learning how to move forward with some professional life that I'm proud of – like a new uniform I'm proud to put on each day. I want to control my future and not be subject to it – not just for me but for us.” Matt added something that he hadn't ever verbalized to Sabina but had been holding like a dark secret, “I don't know if that's starting a business, or running for office, or…I'm not sure. But I don't feel like I'm even in the arena, and I want to be.”
Sabina gave him a long look. “Well, whatever it is, this is real and you need to do some work to figure it out. Or talk to a therapist or a career coach or someone. I'm here for you – but you've got to do the work for yourself. I support you – you know that. Frankly, I hope you do take action because the lingering malcontent is a bad look.”